The Valentine's Gift
by barbecuedphoenix
Summary: When Floppy goes missing- again- and insists on remaining a ghost for a full day, Valkyon takes some pretty extreme measures to find his familiar before less friendly parties can. Because spring thaw to him means ravenous familiars are now stalking the wilds, fresh out of hibernation. He completely forgets that they are the least of his problems this time of year.


This was written for an anonymous request sent to my Tumblr blog, and published on April 24, 2017. The general gist of the original prompt: Floppy plays truant again, Valkyon gets worried, and the Guardian comes to his rescue. I added: or is that what she's doing...?

For my part, this light fic is the very first Eldarya one-shot I've ever published, and in many ways, is still one of the most fun for me to read. Valkyon is a wonderful comic hero. ^_^

* * *

 **The Valentine's Gift**

The Musarose was one of the most precious familiars in this world: docile, intelligent, nimble, and innately-affectionate, with a snowy coat that was the envy of all other velvet-obsessed clothiers, and a specially-adapted tail that mimicked a rose in full bloom, right down to the scent. All in a creature barely big enough to fit into a man's hand even when full grown.

This was exactly why Valkyon refused to let his out of her nest whenever he was working.

For reasons of its own, nature made Floppy just the right size to fit inside a wild Corko's mouth. Which was exactly where he found her once, on the day the faux rose on her tail 'bloomed' to signal the end of puberty, and Valkyon had cautiously let her explore the beach to celebrate.

The Corko didn't make it to the sea. And that was the end of all unsupervised outings, as far as he was concerned.

Still, that incident didn't stop Floppy from venturing out of her nest on her own. She was a wild spirit. At least three times a week, whenever the Obsidian Guard chief dashed to his quarters in the last few minutes of his lunch-break with a sachet full of poisonous ladybugs painfully bargained for at the market, he would find only an empty nest waiting for him.

Hard-won experience as a rebellious Musarose's handler, plus twenty years of field training (professional and otherwise), had taught Valkyon to remain calm, collected, and perfectly methodical in scouring HQ for his errant familiar in-between his jobs for the day. And not simply shake it upside-down to find her before another peckish beast did. (He already tried that the first time she disappeared; it hadn't ended well. The archivists joined forces to throw him out of the library, and Jamon lost a tooth.)

But today, when the shadow of the sundial's gnomon on the Arcade threatened to pass the twelve-hour line, and there was _still_ no trace of Floppy in or around HQ, not even twenty-odd years of field work could keep him from worrying. This wasn't just a routine game of hide-and-seek anymore. This was a rescue operation. This was ripe migraine material.

…He _really_ should have begun forging that suit of armor for her sooner. The schematics had been sitting in the forge for over a year. But she wasn't big enough when he first commissioned them, and in the months afterwards, he just hadn't had the _time_ to finish.

With the sky overhead brushed with violet and the first pinpricks of silver, Valkyon tromped back up the Arcade to the walled garden where the century-old cherry tree stood, for the third time that day. He didn't even glance at the new fairy lights strung from the branches, swaying gently with the evening wind and lighting the pale canopy to the color of blush. Instead, he was scanning the half-thawed ground for telltale footprints, for early grass and fallen petals disturbed by the passage of a hand-sized creature. Especially around the little jar at the base of the stone wall encircling the tree, containing a very irate green ladybug.

It buzzed furiously from inside the glass as Valkyon's armored boots brought him to the jar, then came aloft, wings humming an angrier tune when the warrior picked up its prison. The grass around the jar was completely undisturbed, as it had been for the entire afternoon.

His face had been locked in a frown for two hours straight by this point, through the slowly-building migraine and each unsuccessful turn in his search. But here in the solitude of the garden, Valkyon allowed the last six hours to empty out of him in a long, gusty sigh, which ended with him sitting down heavily on the stone wall, axe and armor clanking in hard agreement. He spent one minute just shutting his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose to ease that headache thundering around his skull. It never really worked, but it was the routine that counted. He always needed to leave the bridge of his nose close to crimson before he finished putting all his thoughts in order.

This time, he left eleven other jars of ladybugs in all her known haunts across the HQ, each capped with cheesecloth tied over the mouth of the jar with twine, which also attached a short stick to lean against the side of the jar. It would have taken Floppy no time at all to shimmy up the stick, chew through the cheesecloth… and fall inside the jar with the ladybug. A little mean, perhaps, but it was justified when she didn't return to the nest after three hours. This one in the garden had been the last of the dozen that he checked, for the third time. None of them held an apologetic-looking Musarose.

He even left one jar in the kitchen, the single warmest place in HQ, and universally tempting to all familiars. Karuto had picked up the tenderizer—about the size of a stake mallet, with spikes—the moment he saw the 'filthy insect!' that Valkyon placed on his floor. But the old satyr had taken one look at Valkyon's expression, then at the axe still slung behind the veteran warrior's shoulder, and for the first time, decided to shut up and retreat to the wine cellar, his hooves clopping something to the beat of 'help me!' on the floorboards.

The jar stayed next to the larder. That was really the only time that Valkyon smiled all day.

Though it all might be for naught at this point. This was the most elaborate snare he had designed for Floppy—and he made several over the years—and not one of the jars even sported gnaw-marks. Either her familiar's wiles had taken a sharp spike when he wasn't looking, or something had happened to keep her from reaching any of them. But what?

Even if some strange instinct compelled her to go outside the city, she would have doubled-back in less than an hour. This was barely decent weather for a tame Musarose.

Seven feet above, the cherry tree shivered in the brisk early spring wind. Faery lights swung and clanked against the gnarled ebon branches as another shower of petals fell to the grass, and on the silver-haired warrior sitting underneath as still as a statue. Still pinching his nose. A delicate, powdery perfume fell over the grounds in the wake of the flying petals, like another dusting of pink invisible to the eye, and he missed most of it.

Valkyon's tawny eyes flicked impassively at the ground once the wind died. His mind automatically clicked through more calculations. A ground carpeted with fresh petals would make finding tracks that much easier. For a small Musarose… and/or a larger predator that may creep into this garden. Blood too would be that much easier to see against the pale flowers.

He was up again in a rapid sequence of clanking plates, setting the jar down on the ground with a thud that rattled the beetle inside. A brisk swipe at his hair dislodged what petals had stuck there. His temples were starting to throb again in warning as he stared critically into the western sky, a deep line returning between his brows, and the edge of steel re-entering his eyes. Over the alabaster city walls, the roof of the sky had turned a fire-touched violet. The view did nothing to charm him.

He had less than an hour before night fell in earnest. He needed to move _now_. Perhaps get a lantern and one or two volunteers in case he needed to continue the search after dark.

Because it had been at least six hours since Floppy went missing—exactly thirty hours since she had last eaten–, and this could only mean that if she hadn't already collapsed in exhaustion somewhere, or started hibernating from the cold, _something_ had gotten to her. With the numbers of civil servants at an all-time low, feral familiars were a common sight inside the city walls. Sometimes even in HQ itself.

If she was still alive, he would get started on that armor first thing tomorrow morning.

Valkyon strode briskly through the bowed archway leading out of the garden. At exactly the same moment, a small figure had the same idea, coming from the opposite side. They met in the middle.

As it often happened, the young lady ricocheted off him and landed hard on her backside in the grass. Valkyon remained standing, feeling just a little stupid for not even flinching.

" _Ow!"_ the Guard of El's newest recruit yelled at him from the ground, her cheeks flushed pink, rubbing her nose where it had bounced off the cuirass buckle on his chest. " _Why don't you ever_ _watch where you're going_?"

Frankly, Valkyon thought that was an unfair statement, because it always took at least two to make an accident. But at the fierce light in her eyes, he bit back his immediate response and said instead, "Sorry. I didn't know you were heading here."

"Oh, why wouldn't I?" she snapped back. "Practically everyone visits the tree at least once on Valentine's Day."

The name set more gears clicking in Valkyon's mind, and now his mind's eye reached back to a few hours earlier that afternoon. To when he first noticed the shell-shaped lanterns suspended from the cherry tree during his initial sweep for Floppy. And this same girl sitting on the stone wall, with a white box of chocolates carefully-unwrapped next to her, the air above her saturated with a fruity perfume that he could smell from across the yard, and compulsively smoothing out a tulle skirt that looked… at least a few months out of season, with El still in the last days of winter thaw. Her legs from the knees down had been dotted with goose-pimples.

…Right. Today _was_ St. Valentine's day. It completely slipped his mind. Unsurprisingly. He hadn't stopped to talk that first time he came across her this afternoon. Floppy had been missing for a few hours by that point.

Valkyon moved to help her up, but the young lady—now wearing more sensible clothes for this brisk early spring—waved his hand away and picked herself off the ground. She started brushing off the grass testily from the back of her trousers, her expression still as dark as a thundercloud.

The Obsidian commander retracted his hand and took one step to the side, just in case. "Are you… planning to meet someone here?" he asked. More to make polite conversation than anything.

It seemed to have the opposite effect. Her eyes rose to meet his and flashed lightning.

"Yep. Twice now. At least he ran right into me this time _."_ She could freeze the ground all over again with her voice.

"Oh," he replied. Then he blinked hard. _Oh._

In a flash, Valkyon finally strung together the revelations of the last thirty seconds. Starting with this irate young woman's defiant scowl. To that bashful smile she had worn when he came across her under the cherry tree hours earlier. And the way that smile evaporated like morning dew when he set the bait for Floppy at the base of the stone wall and walked off.

He assumed that she was waiting for someone, and he had interrupted her womanly preparations. So it was in his best interests to move out like a bandit.

But was that box of chocolates from this afternoon… meant for _him_?

"I…" Pulse pounding a crazy pizzicato, jaw clenching in embarrassment, Valkyon scrambled for words to fix the situation, which even on a less taxing occasion was not exactly his strong suit. A hot flush crept up his neck, and defied strict orders from his brain to climb still higher. His headache felt ready to kill him. "…honestly didn't know. I'm sorry. I was in the middle of something then. In fact…"

The gears in his mind started to spin double-time as Valkyon—as close to a nervous wreck as he could ever be, with Floppy missing or dead, night falling fast, and now sucker-punched with the knowledge that he had brushed off a pretty and very angry young woman who _wanted to spend Valentine's with him_ —contemplated his quick exit.

But the girl beat to him to it.

"Looking for Floppy, right?" she asked acidly. Without waiting for an answer, she unbuttoned her coat, and from inside, drew out a tiny bundle wrapped in the ends of her woolen scarf.

The bundle squirmed and unfurled on its own in her hands. Floppy's pink-shot ears and whiskers sprung out of the folds of the scarf like the new year's shoots, followed by the rest of her face, her bright black eyes blinking in the light, beady nose twitching fitfully in the cool, spring air. Her whiskers twitched double-time when she spied Valkyon; a high-pitched chitter escaped from the depths of the scarf.

Valkyon's hands were on the girl's in a flash. " _Where did you find her? What happened? Was she hurt?_ "

The girl, wisely, let go and allowed him to scoop Floppy into his hands. "Oh, no," she replied, her expression now as flat as the bottom of a pan. "She was just nosing around in Ewelein's box of cotton balls again. I was doing a supply drop-off right when she found her, so I volunteered to bring her back."

Floppy squeaked once in answer and scurried up Valkyon's arm to her usual spot on his shoulder, the full head of the faux rose on her tail bouncing along behind her. Her wiry whiskers tickled his ear as she sniffed at his cheek—her usual greeting after playing hooky from the nest.

A broad grin stretched its way across Valkyon's mouth, but he barely noticed. "Strange," he remarked, one hand cupped protectively around his familiar. "I was there earlier, asking Ewelein if she had seen Floppy at all. She insisted that she hadn't. You must have very good timing."

The girl shrugged and cocked her head to one side, her eyes flicking to the cherry tree. A bashful smile quirked the corner of her lips. "Oh, you know what they say. Sometimes things come to you only when you're not looking for them…"

"Is that another quote from your world?" Valkyon chuckled, his eyes still on Floppy—or her general direction; the cold convinced her to bury herself under the curtain of his hair and curl up against his neck. "I better tell Ezarel that he's not the best judge on human wisdom."

This, strangely, made the girl's cheeks color faster than when he accidentally knocked her onto the grass. "Don't you dare, Kyon. He'll never let me hear the end of it," she tried to laugh, glancing down at her boots as she started buttoning up her jacket, her scarf flopping loose around her shoulders. Then she changed the subject with four magic words. "I already fed her."

Now Valkyon could only stare at her.

"On our way here, we came across another jar with a live ladybug inside. And Floppy was starving; can you blame her, with this weather? I hope you don't mind that I opened it."

The warrior at last found his tongue again. "…No. Of course not," he muttered softly, still staring at the girl before him. That's… what they're meant for, in the end."

It might be the approaching twilight, the smell of the fallen cherry blossoms perfuming the air like virgin roses from right beneath their feet, the comforting warmth and delicate weight of Floppy back against his neck, or the reproachful ghost of St. Valentine hanging in the air around them, whispering that not too long ago, there had been _chocolates_ waiting for _him_. Because right now, Valkyon couldn't take his eyes off the pink-faced, pink-nosed young woman before him even if he wanted to.

A pink-nosed young woman who was kind, thoughtful, modest, wise, and brave enough to stand up and rail at him after being jilted this afternoon and then knocked flat onto her backside. Not to mention beautiful in that furry winter scarf and coat still covered in turf stains.

"Cat got your tongue, Kyon?" the girl asked, now grinning impishly at him.

Valkyon blinked, and just to show that some things weren't impossible, felt his neck burn two darker shades of red. How long had he been staring at her without saying a word? Longer than usual, it seemed. Yet why did it matter to him now to try to be better company?

The little creature now chewing at the ends of his hair was one good hint.

He needed to say something… appropriate, for this situation.

"Thank you. I admire you for what you did today."

The girl's bottom lip dropped open, half an inch lower than where it normally should be. Then she began turning crimson herself. But incredibly, she screwed her expression back into a smile and started to laugh, planting her hands on her hips and arching her eyebrows high. "…If I didn't know better, Valkyon, I'd say you have feelings for me."

…All right. Perhaps that was _not_ the best statement he could have made.

Right now, he fervently wished that he was a troll. So he could turn to stone on the spot with what little daylight was left.

His ears burning like fresh coals, and with Floppy barely a distraction in his hair, Valkyon turned to plan B whenever a conversation plunged south and becoming a statue was out of the question: he shut up, crossed his arms over his ample chest, and glowered down at his boots.

People could read premeditated murder almost anywhere they wanted. Valkyon just learnt over the years to use his height, weight, silence, and general fashion choice of plate-armor-and-battle-axe to steer them to that conclusion much faster than usual.

But somehow, this dour silence had no effect at all on the young woman beaming at him.

With all the heart of a man staring into the maw of a live dragon, Valkyon knew that he now needed to _explain exactly what he just said._

"All I meant," he began at last, glaring squarely at his boots as he forced the truth out from between his teeth—which were determined to stay locked in that self-conscious grimace-, "was that what you did today is appreciated. Considering my rudeness from before. That's all."

In answer, the young Guardian clasped her hands behind her back and stepped forward until there was less than six inches of space between them. Right into his line of sight. She tipped her little face up to him and, impossibly, winked.

"I know. But a girl can dream, right?"

Now Valkyon didn't think anyone could blame him for not knowing what to say. His practiced grimace dropped like yesterday's news.

"Oh."

In the silence, she reached forward, and up. Her hand unerringly found Floppy from inside the sheaf of his hair. Against his neck, he could feel his Musarose curl and stretch in relish at the new fingers stroking her head.

"If you ever need help finding her again, you know where to find me."

The image of him knocking on her room door flashed through Valkyon's mind, and was just as quickly shoved into the dark recesses of his subconscious. If he had to, he would, but… he didn't enjoy how the idea of visiting her room made him feel right now. When she was standing this close to him.

Her hand was still tangled somewhere in his hair, just a whisper away from his bare neck. She smelled like witch hazel, wool, and the first herbs of spring.

He mentally gave himself a firm shake. "How about here?" Valkyon countered quickly. "It'll be easier to find each other in the gardens, compared to inside HQ. I can drop off a note."

She mercifully retracted her hand, but the smile she now gave him was one of her best yet. (When did he start evaluating her smiles?) "Will I count on seeing you here next time?" she asked, eyebrows arched high.

A joke for a joke. "Nobody knows how to forge my signature yet. So, yes."

Her face crumpled for a moment, and then her laughter escaped like steam through a fresh crack. For the first time that evening, Valkyon knew he said the right thing. He felt a matching smile break through, but settled for simply taking in the sight of her laughter, at her breath misting the air, the spots of rose blooming across nose and cheek like a new day.

Floppy's tail swished again, the soft petals of the faux rose grazing his shoulder, and she preened herself casually below his ear as the Guardian shot back:

"Then it's a date, wise guy."

* * *

The Guardian's familiar was pacing before the door when it finally creaked open, and its damnable human returned to their room, now lit by only a sliver of moonlight that slipped like a thief through the crack in the velvet curtains.

When her boot stepped on it in the dark, it hissed like a boiling tea kettle.

" _Oops!_ _Sorry…!_ " she whispered back, quickly pushing the door closed with her backside. Then she bent down to mollify her incensed friend, rummaging deep through her coat pocket. "Hey, stop being so snippy. I didn't see you there, honest! Now, here: I got you something. For all your help today."

At the sight of its favorite food, offered well before their scheduled feeding time, the Guardian's familiar dropped its hackles and sniffed her hand with polite, regal interest. Its maw snatched the treat from her palm before the next second was out, leaving a thin trail of spittle as spare change.

As it chewed away, all transgressions between them forgiven, the Guardian crooned and stroked her voracious familiar, wiping her hand clean on its back.

"You like it? Because you've earned it. That squeaking morsel you caught today was the best thing you've brought back _all week_. In fact, since you two got along so well for the whole afternoon, what do you think about making another play-date? Say… two days from now?"

The familiar perked its ears and nodded as much as it could with its jaws still pumping like bellows.

The Guardian beamed beatifically as she rubbed it behind its ears. "You're such a _great sport._ Valkyon's never in his room between six to twelve. No surprise that Floppy gets bored sometimes, right?"

 **FIN**

* * *

 _Disclaimers:_

\- In the game, Floppy doesn't actually have a half-finished suit of armor lying around in Valkyon's forge. (Not yet, anyway.)

\- Also, it's not actually possible for your familiars to kidnap, er, fetch other tamed familiars in the game. Or so they say. ;)

\- We still don't know the exact ages of most Eldarya characters, including Valkyon. (Or even if there's a direct correlation between Eldaryan years and human solar years.) In my headcanon though, I put him in his late twenties... with a criminally-early start in the field of war. :(

At any rate, if you enjoyed reading this piece (and even if you didn't), feel free to leave a review. I'm always open to feedback. :)


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